Secondary Twists
by Laurena Garret
Summary: They knew that there was always a possibility of it happening; but after five years and two and a half tours of duty, John and Sherlock had come to believe that maybe they were one of the lucky couples, until that sniper lined John up in his scope. Sequel to Gradual Twists [ESTABLISHED Sherlock Holmes/John Watson] AU, 221B's
1. Blood

_**Warnings (entire story): Strong Language, male/male relationships, and relationships between teens. Please note that in Australia the age of sexual consent is 16 and that is maintained throughout this story. **_

_A/N: So this continues on five years down the line from where Gradual Twists finished. The whole story is dedicated to __**BEST GUEST EVER**__ and __** charlotte . eliot . 3**__ who answered my call at the end of Gradual Twists and gave me over 180 possible B word endings together. _

_You guys rock!_

_As always you can get updates on all my fanfiction dealings at __**laurenagarret DOT tumblr DOT com**_

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The sand got in every crevice and nine times out of ten John would wash it out of places that were completely covered; but he was in Afghanistan and it was generally one big giant sand bowl. Sherlock like to remind him of that fact during their few and far between Skype chats during John's brief moments of down time between checking on patients.

Things were coming to a point where the nation's population would greet them with smile and waves instead of guns and grenades and it was a change that John was more than happy to welcome as it gave him that small amount of hope that he would return home in the same amount of pieces that he had arrived in.

It was this sense of false hope that caused the patrol that he was in to become too at ease and forgetful.

It was this sense of false hope that had them ducking and running for cover with the rest of the small village.

It was this sense of false hope that had him bent over a comrade trying to protect his body from sand and dirt as the Taliban fought against them with mortar attacks.

It was this sense of false hope that had caused the side of John's face to be caked with dry blood.


	2. Begging

It seemed endless; the constant pummelling of projectiles coming from the Taliban coming closer and closer to where John knelt in what was left of a building. He was leaning over his patients every couple of seconds to stop opened wounds being covered in the dirt and dust that rained down on them from the ceiling.

By now there were patients; multiple people, ranging from young children to elderly with a few soldiers mixed in just for good measure.

Then just as suddenly as it began the attack stopped.

The lack of explosions didn't fully penetrate John's mind until he'd finished taping off a bandage around one of the less severe injuries. The air around him was completely silent and his eyes darted out the door as the first sounds of something other than the mortar attack came into the building.

He crouched by the doorway, gun held tightly in his hand and eyes darting around, trying to find the source of the voice.

It didn't take long for John to spot him.

The soldier, a young man that John only knew as Ben, had managed to drag himself to a position of relative safety; from there he could wait out the siege.

As John spotted other soldiers, Ben's voice started to break as he called out for help, almost begging.


	3. Body

It took a split second for John to make his decision and after barking orders to a medic who had arrived after the attack had begun, John turned his focus to the soldier calling out for help.

Mentally he counted to three, but physically he was running before his mind started to say one and kneeling beside Ben before he could reach five.

The other men in his patrol unit moved a second after him; securing the streets, checking for injured people and searching for would be attackers. All this was streaming through the back of John's mind as he immediately switched from soldier to doctor and began working to save his fellow soldier.

His hands moved swiftly as he did everything he could so Ben would be stable enough to make it back to the base hospital, all the while making sure to tell Ben that he had done the right thing and that he was going to be fine.

When the med-evac arrived, John watched from where he knelt as Ben was stretchered across to the jeep and he didn't see the flash from the sniper's scope.

As the pain flooded through his shoulder, he felt one of the medic's applying pressure. It almost felt like he was looking at the whole scene from the outside of his body.

* * *

_A/N: I'd like to take a minute to thank a guest reviewer who pointed out something I didn't know about the use of the word Taliban. According to them (and they got this information from a family member who works in the military) the word Taliban can be translated to the word 'student', so if you were to go to Afghanistan and ask for a member of the Taliban, they would call on their son. As a result I won't be using that work in that context again._

_Unfortunately this guest didn't sign in or don't have an account so I can't send them a private message. All I can do is say thank-you for the information here and hope that they get the message. _


	4. Brother

Sherlock silently followed Greg Lestrade into the crime scene. He wasn't supposed to be there, but as the scene was about to be released Greg could see no reason not to let Sherlock in for one final look before the cleaners began their work.

In three minutes Sherlock was able to point out six things that the forensic team and the _experienced_ detectives missed and if it wasn't for the fact that Sherlock had watched them from behind the crime scene tape he would have thought that the weren't even trying.

Greg was the first to notice Mycroft looking in at them from beyond the crime scene tape. He was the first to recognise the look on his face; it was the same look that Greg himself plastered on when he went to visit relatives to notify them of a death.

It only took a touch on the shoulder to make Sherlock whirl around to face Greg with annoyed look on his face.

It took not even a second for Sherlock to realise that Greg wasn't even looking in his direction.

It took a couple of seconds to turn himself in the same direction that Greg was looking.

And it took less than half a second for his stomach to drop at the look that was being sent by his brother.


	5. Banter

The ride to the hospital was done in silence. Mycroft sat next to him, his eyes firmly focused on the screen of his phone, waiting for any kind of communication from Anthea who was at the hospital.

Normally Sherlock would have found his brother's lack of verbal communication to be a welcomed change, and for the first time Sherlock found himself hoping that Mycroft would look up at him and tell him that John had made it back to the UK and everything wasn't as serious as it was made out to be.

The hallways in St Barts seemed to run long and curved like as if he was walking through a maze and despite the fact that Sherlock was in the hospital every second day bother's Molly, he had never had a reason to need to go to the ICU.

Until now.

Anthea and the Doctor spotted them within seconds of turning the final corner. He introduced himself and as he explained had was medically wrong with John, Anthea tapped away at her phone – no doubt taking notes for future reference.

As the Doctor asked if they had any questions, he remained silent and left it to Mycroft to ask the sensible questions.

Sherlock silently turned from the doctor and Mycroft, unable to continue to listen to their emotional banter.


	6. Breathing

Skype calls were nice but they did nothing to show Sherlock how his husband actually looked. Most times he would be able to tell how tired or stressed his husband was through the tone of his voice, the grainy resolution that accompanied the high quality vocals did nothing to help Sherlock gage how tired or stressed John was.

As he looked down at his husband, through the glass window his stomach clenched. Bags signifying exhaustion hung under John's normally clear eyes and there were tiny little lines stretching across his forehead where he had frowned far too often.

The rest of John's body was a mixture of wires, tubes, bandages and grazes. Behind him, Sherlock only barely listened as Mycroft explained what he had managed to gather regarding the attack that caused John's injuries.

'Not long after the sniper took his shot the terrorists started their attack a new. A medic was able to drag John into a house and control the bleeding until a missile hit the structure,' Mycroft explained.

Sherlock barely held back a scoff. He didn't need Mycroft to tell him that something had fallen on top of John; he could see the bits of debri that still littered John's hair.

Sherlock's hands twitched as he watched the nurses work, all the while making sure John kept breathing.


	7. Beaten

_A/N: And because I was unable to update yesterday I'll throw in another chapter for free!_

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If felt like an eternity before Sherlock was able to step foot in John's ICU room and the moment he heard the words nothing stopped him charging in and walking over to his husband.

The closer Sherlock walked the more vivid John's injuries became. The red-brown of dried blood on grazes stood out against John's skin, which had paled due to lack of blood. Bruises littered John's chest and Sherlock was sure if he was to study every inch of his husband he would find more bruising than normal skin colouring. John's leg was encased in a case that ran all up his right leg and a small smile appeared on Sherlock face as he thought about how John would react to the loss of his no broken bones EVER bragging right.

The smile disappeared soon after and Sherlock nearly completely collapsed into the chair behind him.

He had seen John take massive hits while playing rugby, he'd watched as he fell from a high branch in a tree and even felt his stomach drop as he watched John take a punch to the jaw but in all the years that Sherlock had known John, as both a friend and a lover, he had never seen him look like he was now.

Never had Sherlock ever seen John look so beaten.


	8. Blanket

John's private room was starting to look more like a condensed version of their apartment as the days wore on and despite Sherlock bringing books and DVD's and countless other items – including their wedding photo – none of it was good enough to wake John.

Sherlock had been told countless times that John was off of any sedatives and now it was just up to him to open his eyes on his own. But that had been nearly a week ago and there was still no sign that John's eyes were going to open.

Countless people had come to see John, from their parents to people that Sherlock had met during his cases. Molly usually popped in during her break, but today something must have detained her. It wasn't until he returned from a forced break away from the room by one of John's more pushy nurses that Sherlock saw Molly leaving the room.

With a quick smile and a wave she headed off in the opposite direction, and Sherlock couldn't have been happier. Other than John, Molly seemed to be the only person to know when and when not to talk.

She was also the only person to remember to grab the only memento that John and Sherlock owned from a case. Draped over John's bed was a bright orange blanket.


	9. Beacon

Try to describe what he was seeing in this dream like state was like trying to explain why the Earth was round or why Sherlock had an obsession with doing experiments on the kitchen table. It was strange and he was constantly being pulled out of what he believed to be wakefulness into a deep and never ending darkness only to find himself back into the fake wakefulness.

The dreams would always amplify the pain and numbness that would flood John's body, making him believe that he was awake until the always welcomed darkness forcefully returned.

He could handle the darkness. It was peaceful and relaxing and he didn't feel the dead weight of his body as it just lay there. In this state he could hear what was happening around his physical form.

He could hear the nurses as they checked his vitals, he could hear Mrs Hudson as she clucked over the silent Sherlock.

He could hear the deafening silence that surrounded the room whenever Mycroft would visit, sending a silent threat to John that somehow Mycroft would bring him back to life if John died and kill him in ways that John couldn't even imagine.

All the while he could hear Sherlock's voice talking to him and drawing him into the world of the living like a beacon.


	10. Blue

The need and the want was there, but no matter how hard John tried he didn't' have the strength of mind to open his eyes.

As the minutes passed (at least he was sure that it was minutes) the sound of different voices swirled around his head, willing him to open his eyes, but none were louder and more resounding that that of Sherlock's.

For long periods of time he would just get lost in the darkness and the sound of Sherlock's voice talking to him as if he was actually awake and conversing with him. The picture of Sherlock talking to the unconscious John was an image that would have made John smile if he was able to and he silently hoped that Molly had been quick and sneaky enough to be a picture of it; though John doubted that taking pictures was top of Molly's to-do list at this point in time.

It came as a shock when the tone of Sherlock's voice changed from casual to needing; asking John –no begging John – to open his eyes and show the world that he was fine and everything was alright; to prove to Sherlock that he was fine and that he actually wanted to come back.

It was enough and finally after a week of waiting blue-grey eyes locked-on blue.

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_A/N: I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to update tomorrow as I'll be flying up to Sydney to start a new job. If I don't update tomorrow I'll happily give you two chapters on Thursday!_


	11. Banana

It took a while for John to get used to the constant pain that came with every movement and every poke the doctors gave him. He knew that they were just doing their job and if it had been him he would probably be doing the same thing, but it didn't stop him from swearing at them in his head.

Sherlock wasn't as thoughtful. With every wince that the doctors and nurses pulled the louder Sherlock's exclaims became until he had been told by a very forceful nurse to wait out in the hallway until they were done.

While John was glad to have Sherlock near-by he had been more worried about the other's reaction than anything else and now he was able to take stock of what his body now looked like.

Most of his upper torso was wrapped up with bandages, partly from the gun-shot wound to his shoulder and partly because he had cracked a couple of ribs when the roof of the building collapsed on him. He could make out a cast over one of his legs and he only partly listened to the doctors as he realised that while he had been waiting, Sherlock had drawn on his cast.

Everything else that was uncovered was black and blue with bruises reminding John of a bruised banana.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who wished me luck starting my new job. So far everything is going well and I'm mentally preparing a updating schedule to fit around my new job. Because I missed out on updating over the past few days I've got two more chapters after this one to hand out to you all! _


	12. Back

Sherlock sat on one of the waiting chairs, not even looking up when a pair of familiar pink shoes appeared in his line of sight.

'So he's awake?'

'He woke up about an hour ago.'

'How is he?'

'I don't know. The doctors won't allow me in the room while they assess him. Something about me being too disruptive.'

'From what I heard you used a lot of colourful vocabulary,' Molly said sitting down. She shrugged slightly when Sherlock gave her a questioning look. 'News travels fast around here; especially when it concerns you and John. No one really expected you to have a civil partner, especially one who is a Doctor and in the Army. They didn't think that anyone would be able to put up with you for so long.'

Sherlock nodded. The Christmas party that Molly was vaguely referring to always brought a smile to his face. It was the first Christmas that John and Sherlock had managed to spend together since John was deployed for the first time and no one, not even the yarders had been expecting Sherlock Holmes to walk into with an excited John Watson-Holmes and introduce him to everyone as his partner. Sherlock looked up and through the glass.

'John has been deployed for most of our marriage.'

'Yes, but now he's back.'


	13. Balbutient

In Sherlock's opinion the doctors took entirely too much time getting the answers they needed and it was nearly an hour and a half before Sherlock was allowed back into his husband's room. With a final unimpressed look in Sherlock's direction, the pushy nurse left the two men alone.

They looked at each other for a few short seconds, John unsure how Sherlock was feeling as he was showing now emotion and Sherlock finding it hard to find the words to speak and what did was stuttering.

'John – I – I -'

All it took was for John to open his arms slightly and he soon found Sherlock had pressed himself – as lightly and tightly as he could – to John's chest.

It seemed slightly strange to Sherlock that John was the one that was injured yet he was the one who needed comforting; the one who needed to hold John and know that he actually was in one piece after being separated for so long and to know that he was alright and he wasn't going anywhere.

John on the other hand was completely happy to hold the now emotional Sherlock; the Sherlock that only _he_ got to see, the Sherlock that was shaking in his arms and the Sherlock that had just a few minutes earlier been completely and utterly balbutient.

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_A/N: For those who need to know – __**Balbutient **__means stammering._


	14. Blunt

It seemed, to Sherlock that is, that the moment everyone heard that John was awake they all decided to bombard his husband and ask him a bunch of stupid questions that were always repeated.

'How do you feel?'

'Do you feel alright?'

'What do the Doctor's say about when you can leave the hospital?'

'Is there going to be any lasting effects?'

'What do the Army say about your injuries?'

'Do you want me to pop around to make sure that you're alright?'

The last one particularly annoyed Sherlock. Every time it was said it drove home a feeling that Sherlock didn't know how to name. What annoyed him the most about that question was the lingering belief that Sherlock was too caught up in his own little world that he wouldn't be able to look after his husband. That he would get caught up in an experiment or be working a case and wouldn't know if John accidently slipped in the shower and knocked himself unconscious.

What did it for him was the _look_ that John's parents sent him, he held his tongue – until they all walked out into the hallway and Sherlock told them what he thought of their perceptions of his caring abilities.

'You know,' John said slowly when Sherlock returned. 'You didn't have to be so blunt.'


	15. Boast

The last time Sherlock had laid eyes on Jim Moriarty was after John had told him to leave Molly alone when he had gotten a little too drunk and a little too _hands on_. Sherlock didn't blame Moriarty for backing off and avoiding them – John could be forceful when he wanted – but he didn't think that he would be brave enough to seek them out.

They sat in the hospital cafeteria because even after all this time Sherlock doubted that John would want to see Moriarty and for what seemed like hours they sat in silence; until Moriarty made a comment on a case that New Scotland Yard had solved with Sherlock's help and Sherlock suddenly remembered that he'd actually liked Moriarty during High School. He had been the only other person in his year that actually challenged him.

They chatted for a while until Moriarty's phone beeped and he announced he had another appointment to get to. Sherlock walked back to John's room alone but the moment that John looked up Sherlock knew that he hadn't been as descreate as he had originally thought.

'So, what did Jim Moriarty want?' John asked looking back down at the book on his lap.

Sherlock didn't even bat an eyelash or think about what he was saying before he replied: 'Just to boast.'


	16. Better

John's recovery seemed to drag on for longer that Sherlock expected; eventually the effects of Sherlock's sour mood started to seep out and touch everyone and John got in touch with Greg Lestrade to have him send over some files, which seemed to settle Cyclone Sherlock.

Somewhat.

After more time passed John became aware of how Sherlock's mood changes would co-inside with the Doctor telling them that John wasn't ready to leave; when Sherlock didn't get the answer that he wanted he would disappear for an hour, to where John didn't know. What he did know was when Sherlock returned his moods seemed to change and dim somewhat.

Until today.

Today, whoever Sherlock went to see or whomever came to see him didn't seem to come and that left Sherlock in a foul mood that John didn't know how to deal with. It was after Sherlock finished with the final file and started to pace that John put his book on the bedside table and beckoned Sherlock over.

Without a care for his own injuries, he pulled his husband down and placed Sherlock's head on his shoulder; a role reversal to be sure for the both of them but it seemed to calm the taller man down, as did John's fingers running through Sherlock's hair.

'Relax love. Soon I'll be better.'


	17. Bed

It was nice to be home. It was nice to be sitting in his own bed, in his own house drinking his favourite tea from his favourite cup while reading one of his favourite books. The only thing that would have made things better is if his favourite husband was home.

It was the third week that Sherlock had come home late. He knew that he wasn't working on a case, calls to both Greg and Mycroft had assured him of that and a check of e-mails and Sherlock's website told John that there were no private cases either. It left John unable to explain why his husband wasn't home when he had all but bullied the dotors and nurses in allowing John to come home.

Had he done it for John, who had been counting down the days until he was able to come home? Or had he actually wanted John back in their apartment, in which case why wasn't he home?

The sound of the door opening came not long after John switched off the bedside lamp and slid under the covers. Through the darkness, he watched as Sherlock changed into his pyjama's. It took another five minutes before Sherlock climbed under the sheets but instead of wrapping himself around John he stayed on his side of the bed.


	18. Beetles

They were strange things beetles, all black and shiny and staring up at John with their non-blinking black eyes and nonchalant expressions. They were the last things that John needed to find on the kitchen table, especially when half had been ground into powder, some had been examined and the rest were lying belly up on the kitchen table.

He had forgotten about these little quirks that Sherlock had; the experiments laid haphazardly over the kitchen table, the constant flow of body parts in the fridge, papers and diagrams pinned to the walls; and it all annoyed John to no end.

With an anguished yell he sent the beetles flying off the table.

He knew that it wasn't the beetles that were getting to him. It was Sherlock and the way he was acting. The last time he had been so distant was the week leading up to his first deployment and Sherlock thought that by distancing himself he wouldn't hurt so much when John left.

This distance was different. There was no communication. They were on their fourth week of late night returns and the first week and early morning leaving.

Deep down John had a feeling he knew what was happening but he didn't want to think about it and right now he needed to clean up the beetles.


	19. Barmy

John could pinpoint the moment when he started to really notice what was going on with Sherlock; when he started to notice the silence as Sherlock's absence instead of silent thinking; when he started to realise that the experiments were being left out longer than they usually were and when He started to notice that most nights Sherlock didn't even come to bed until early in the morning.

He knew what these signs could all very well be pointing to. He had seen enough TV and been on enough cases to notice the signs.

And like the people in TV and in Sherlock's cases, John didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to think that a man that he had sworn to love for the rest of his life could betray him like those people had done.

Then other thoughts would come; they had married young, he had been away a long time, if he had just waited those few extra seconds than maybe the snapper wouldn't had lined him up and he wouldn't have been sent home.

Too many what ifs danced through his mind and each one seemed to twist the knife deeper into his heart, and it didn't matter what he did to try and still the traitorous thoughts John still thought that he was going barmy.


	20. Baking

These days it was the only thing that kept his mind on the job, or in any state of sanity.

Everything that he made had some kind of reference to Sherlock, some days it was something that Sherlock loved and when he was feeling particularly hateful, it would be something that Sherlock loathed.

Unfortunately and regardless none of his wares were being eaten. Sherlock wasn't home these days and John had lost most of his appetite.

There were times when he would look at what he had made that day and think that it was such a waste and then other time he would think that it was ironic, as everything else seemed to be heading in the same direction.

He knew that this was no the most healthy of ways to work through his annoyance and anger at Sherlock's lack of existence in their apartment. It was like he had become a ghost that only existed in John's memory.

He could blame his want to join the army and serve his country. He blamed Jim Moriarty for turning up when he did and dragging Sherlock off into his world. Most of all he blamed Sherlock for his need for find something with someone that wasn't John.

And the only way that he could get these feelings out was by baking.


	21. Borrowed

"Mycroft?"

"Get in Sherlock."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter, get in the car."

_Silence_.

"I see that you have been spending some time with Jim Moriarty."

"That is none of your business."

"It is very much my business when your time spent with him seems to be impacting on your marriage."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't which is why it is all the more tedious at I have to be the one to break it to you little brother. For all the deduction skills that you possess you cannot see what is right in front of you."

_Silence._

"Six weeks ago you were begging me to try and put some kind of governmental pressure on John's doctors to try and get him discharged early, and now that he is home you're spending all your time with a man who has more than a few dubious contacts. Has he told you what he has been up to since your graduated."

"Yes."

"And how much did you detect was a lie."

The majority."

"And if it was anyone else you would have called them on it. Jim Moriarty has you hooked for some unknown reason and is taking up most of your time; time that could be better spent elsewhere where it is obviously becoming borrowed."


	22. Breaking

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"When was the last time you spent time with John since he came home from the hospital that wasn't sleeping or sexual?"

_Silence_.

"I thought so." Mycroft played with his umbrella. "I went and visited John today, to see how he was and I think that he is looking worse than when he had been in hospital." Sherlock's head snapped in Mycroft's direction. "He has a number of suspicions, many of them that are causing him considerable pain because he doesn't want to believe that they are true."

"I hope you aren't suggesting what I believe that you are suggesting."

"That John thinks that you are having an affair with Jim Moriarty? I am more than suggesting it. His worries are written quite plainly on his face at this point in time and you are so wrapped up in whatever it is you are seeing in Jim Moriarty that you're blind to the pain that you are causing your husband."

"I cause him no pain."

"You don't see the pain because at the moment you are blind to it. You cannot see beyond your nose or beyond whatever you and Moriarty have been doing; but you, Sherlock Homes, need to do something about a man who loves you and is badly breaking."


	23. Begone

Sherlock had quite honestly expected many things when he returned back to the apartment, but this was not one of them.

He had expected to see John cooking in the kitchen or sitting in his chair reading or watching one of those horrible shows that he just loved to watch.

He didn't expect to see the apartment empty.

The whole structure was completely silent, other than the tinkerings of Mrs Hudson on the floor below. For a moment Sherlock wondered if maybe one of his cases had come back to bite him, but there was no sign of forced entry and if there had been, Sherlock would have noticed it when he had entered the room minutes before.

No. The apartment for empty for another reason, a reason that Sherlock couldn't quite put his finger on until he went into the bedroom.

All of John's clothes were missing. Sherlock checked where John had made Sherlock put his duffle bag and found it gone as well. Sherlock raced around the apartment and found small things were missing from other places as well.

John's shaving kit.

The snow globe that Molly had given them their first Christmas as a married couple.

Little things that loved were missing, packed up and taken with him when Sherlock own actions had caused the army doctor to begone.

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_**A/N: **And that is the end of this part of the Twists series. I know that it's a horrible way to end things but thats just the way things are. I will let you all know that I have plans for another one in the series, I'm just not sure when I will begin posting it!_

_Thanks to everyone who has been so patient over the past few weeks as I finally got the nerve to post the final chapter and prepared for the on-slaught of virtual items I know are being prepared to be thrown in my direction. _

_I look forward to hearing from you all again once the next part of the series is ready. _

_Laurena_


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